I don't feel like acting like a mature adult
by Irako of the Desert
Summary: Revenge fic so I can work out my emotions over something that happened to me. Posted here in case the intended recipient decides to look. Not really relevant to anyone's interests except those involved. Mafia AU, OCs only. Tyr developed by FF user Wocaine.


"Tyr, you goddamn traitor."

Ben slumped on the floor and leaned against the door of his office, crumpling the letter his brother had left behind in a fist. It'd been two months since his foster brother had walked out without a word of explanation. Two months since Ben had lost his temper and took all his anger out on writing the worst words he could think of, pulling everything he could think of to hurt the redhead as much as the redhead had hurt him. He didn't ask himself why he'd written those awful things, because he knew. It had been cathartic. He wasn't sorry he'd done it, either. Pouring out his hurt into the shapes of those letters had helped him cope with the loss of his brother.  
But of course the idiot didn't want to see that. He only saw Ben's darkest aspect, the Pokemaniac's ability to eviscerate those dearest to him, then ran like a little bitch. And deep down, Ben didn't blame him. The bastard had never been able to face uncomfortable truths. Whatever regret might have driven Tyr to return even so briefly had been burned away by a Molotov cocktail made up of rage and fear and hurt over the words Ben had the balls to even think.

All that was left to even indicate Tyr had even come back was a stupid, incoherent note about how he'd thought he'd been unfair to Ben, but changed his mind once he'd seen what had been written. It included something about toxic Ben was, how right Tyr's decision to walk away had been, and how the years they'd spent having each other's backs meant nothing. Not that Tyr could throw such rocks in that glass house he stood in. The wildfire fuck was too busy taking his own feelings and shoving them deep up his own ass so he could sit on them rather than allow himself to be vulnerable. Ben thought about sending the Indigos on a manhunt and having Tyr dragged in. He imagined ordering the redhead tied up and tossed into an empty room, then coming in and… And what? Force Tyr to face the uncomfortable truths? Make him see somehow that he was a silent, seething asshole who couldn't handle the fact that even the cool, calculating President of the Indigos could be goaded into rage? Demonstrate to him Tyr's own toxicity and how Ben had still stuck by him because they were brothers? He discarded the idea. Tyr would probably shoot somebody and it wouldn't make Ben feel better in the long run. The fleeting satisfaction at having that control over his foster brother's actions wouldn't be enough to heal this metaphorical stab wound in his chest.

Ben crumpled the note further, trembling as he fought the urge to rip it into tiny shreds. What hurt the most was not Tyr's own angry words (though seeing his once-closest confidant call their friendship 'nothing' did sting like a motherfucker). It was the fact that the note had injected Tyr's presence back into Ben's life just at the point where the Pokemaniac had thought he'd moved past the betrayal and could keep going with his life. It was the fact that the note did not even bother to explain why Tyr had left in the first place, which is what Ben wanted most. Evidence again of Tyr's inability to face the truth, that. His reason was probably something petty and selfish and childish, and rather than acknowledge what a moron he really was, he chose instead to dump the blame on Ben.

"Well, you've always left me to handle your messes. Selfish prick."

Tears rolled down Ben's cheeks as he spoke, and he drew his knees up to bury his face in them. He let the pain flow, not caring that it pulled great, wracking sobs out of him. He knew that Tyr wasn't coming back again. He also knew that the hurt would grow lesser with time. Tyr could go his own way, and welcome to it. If Tyr came back, Ben knew too that he'd forgive that stupid, selfish brother of his, and he hated himself for that.

~o~o~o~o

 _Author's Note: Chuck, you don't get to dictate what I do or don't do. You don't get to demand that I just accept your bullshit and act like I'm fine with it. Maybe you're enjoying being the martyr, ignoring the fact that I'm not a goddamn robot and I can get just as angry as you can over stupid stunts like blocking a supposed friend without ANY explanation. The difference between you and me is that I actually demonstrate that anger as clearly as I can and make sure you know why I'm angry. I'm not sorry about whatever I wrote you. I don't say things I don't mean. I'm sorry you can't handle the fact that friends can have complex emotions. I am sorry you didn't see the fact that I STILL left a space for you to write with me in Foul Play if you suddenly decide to not act like yourself and be friends again, because even after all the pain you've inspired, I would still fucking forgive you. It's your loss for not being able to see that._


End file.
